


Failing To Not Fall

by neverthelessthesun



Series: Steve and Tony Make a Porno (Unrelated Stony Fics) [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Steve Rogers, Consensual Somnophilia, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Domestic Avengers, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Gratuitous Smut, Insecure Steve, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, References to 2001: A Space Odyssey, Sex, Sharing a Bed, Tony and his Bots - Freeform, Top Tony Stark, Vacation, kind of?, mentioned: biting, mentioned: bondage, mentioned: gags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 04:22:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14825153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverthelessthesun/pseuds/neverthelessthesun
Summary: Steve was failing to not fall in love with Tony Stark.AKA the one where Steve thinks he's Friends-With-Benefits with Tony, and Tony thinks he's dating Steve.





	Failing To Not Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and thanks for clicking! 
> 
> This fic had three awesome betas--[tonystarksnipples](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonystarkssnipples), [athletiger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/athletiger), and [yngvolkayno](http://yngvolkayno.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Please heed the tags. Not your cuppa, please move along.
> 
> 08/20/2018 Now with amazing [art by latelierderiot!](https://neverthelessthesun.tumblr.com/post/177215714168/latelierderiot-fanfic-writers-appreciation) I am truly blessed.
> 
> Comments and kudos are love!
> 
> Edit 10/11/2018 I have had to enable comment moderation and disable anonymous commenting on this work and a few others, because I was getting rude backhanded compliments saying "Bottom Steve is the best, Tony is the worst" and similar things. I DO NOT TOLERATE bottom wank in my comments section. Even if I only wrote and posted one or the other, I would not accept this kind of talk. I want the content I generate to be a comfortable place for pretty much anyone to be, and wank does not help me do that. Be considerate of others (and the author) before you post.

Surprising exactly no one, Steve was not a friends-with-benefits kind of guy. He got emotionally attached to people he liked—partially because caring about people was how he operated, and partially because that circle of people close to him was fairly small and he wanted to keep that circle from shrinking. Meaningless but regular sex with one particular person was a recipe for disaster, at least for him. 

The surprising part (for people who didn’t know him, at least) was that Steve wasn’t anti-meaningless sex. He had enjoyed his fair share of anonymous one-night-stands, both in the first half of the twentieth century and the twenty-first. After all, in a society that stigmatized fellas for wanting to have a relationship with another man, what’s a guy to do? Quick sexual relations were a habit he kept up with after waking up in the future. 

Now, his preference was always going to be sex within a relationship. That’s why, despite not having many sexual or romantic feelings for women, he had tried with Gail, and later Peggy. None of the fellas he ever slept with seemed to want to make time for him. Besides, if he ever wanted to settle down back then, he’d have needed to do it with a woman. And, though he’d be true to any spouse he took, it wasn’t exactly an ideal solution to marry a woman. Oh, Steve really loved both Peggy and Gail. Just not romantically.

All this to say, Steve was pretty used to taking what he could get when it came to the sex he enjoyed. A man has needs. Even if he’s Captain America. 

So, when faced with the opportunity to bed his exceptionally male, ridiculously good-looking, very interested teammate, Steve shoved down on his steadily growing crush and jumped. It goes like this: Tony and Steve almost crashed in the hallway outside debrief, Tony took one look at him and started to snark but instead pushed Steve into a wall, and then there were lips on his and it’s really good and he grasped for the doorknob behind him—

And before they knew it they were slumped against the wall of the utility closet outside their debrief room. 

“That was so amazing, my eyes won’t focus,” Tony groaned out, peeling himself off of Steve’s front and all but collapsing into the wall next to him. “Jeezus, that was hot. We have to do it again sometime.”

Steve, still catching his breath and coming off his post-orgasmic high, could be forgiven for losing his brain-to-mouth filter. “Give me twenty minutes?”

Tony looked him square in the eye, jaw dropping. “Holy shit, seriously?”

As he tucked himself back inside his uniform, Steve watched Tony do the same and wondered what he had gotten himself into.

.o0o.

After round two, Tony was wrung out and drowsy, his eyes shuttering even as he murmured, “We should. Talk. In the morning. About…I don’t know. Morning.” With that proclamation, he fell immediately to sleep. 

Steve, despite two orgasms and a four-hour battle before that, was suddenly wide awake. Images floated through his mind, of Tony’s face in the midst of passion, the sounds he made, the way he felt grinding against Steve’s hip, down his throat, buried in his ass…

He mentally shook himself. The crush he was trying to ignore was not helping. Either Tony would want to do this again, or he wouldn’t, but either way, it was definitely casual. There had been no expression of feelings from Tony, and Steve couldn’t ask that of him. He touted his playboy title with the same pride he carried the label genius, or billionaire. Steve couldn’t let himself get attached to Tony.

So, the next decision he had to make was, if Tony wanted to make the sex a regular thing, what would Steve do? He had been tempted by arrangement like that before—casual, no-strings-attached sex with someone was just as prevalent in the 30’s and 40’s as it was now. He had never taken the option, though, because—

Because he would get attached. No-strings didn’t really apply to Steve Rogers. 

But with Tony, given the chance, Steve couldn’t really see himself turning him down. He shifted in bed, trying to clear his head. Tony was good and funny and wicked smart and a strong fighter and he spent so much time trying to take care of everyone around him. Like he was used to having a smaller circle, like he didn’t want it to shrink. Like Steve. If Steve turned him down, Tony might see it as a rejection of being in that circle. He couldn’t bear that happening with Tony.

Besides all that, he thought as he buried his face in a Tony-scented pillow, Steve didn’t want to turn him down. He wanted to do it again. And again. As many times as Tony would let him.

Finally, Steve examined his own feelings. He could see the pitfalls of being in a casual relationship with someone he was already half in love with. But Steve thought he could control himself. He could police his emotions, force himself to remember that Tony wasn’t his. True, he couldn’t see a way that this strategy ended with anything other than Tony eventually getting bored of him, but having Tony for a while was better than just mooning after him from afar, or not having him at all. He could manage to stay detached long enough.

Decision made, Steve forced himself to remember that Tony hadn’t even said he was interested in a repeat of tonight. He rolled over and fell into a fitful sleep.

.o0o.

The next morning, Tony stretched, feeling more rested and positive than he had in awhile. The sun was pouring in his windows, but he kept his eyes closed, luxuriating in his sheets and the good feeling surrounding him. 

As he became more aware, he remembered what he’d been doing last night—and who, holy shit. Rubbing off in the supply closet, the adrenaline of the fight fading, so close and wet and dark, had been one of the greatest sexual experiences of Tony’s life. Maybe it was the need to keep quiet, or the edges of Steve’s uniform chafing his skin, or the hot breath in his ear, revealing otherwise-unheard whines and hitches, but whatever it was, Tony was addicted.

Then, when they made it to the penthouse. Steve was relentless, opening himself roughly while swallowing Tony like a pro. If Tony had thought about it (well, he had, but if he’d thought about it more) he would have guessed that Steve was a soft and sweet kind of lover, wanting missionary position sex that ended in emotionally reaffirming orgasms. But the sex he’d just had was nothing like that—it was desperate and brutally-paced, pulling Tony into Steve like gravity, forcing him to orbit ever faster. It was delicious and heady, to fuck like a wild thing, and Tony wanted to do it again. This morning. As soon as possible.

But, they really should talk. It all happened so fast, and then kept happening, and Tony had been so exhausted after coming twice—once _inside Captain America_ —that he had dropped off pretty much right away, without saying the things he wanted to. He knew Steve was a relationship kind of guy, and while that hadn’t been his own preference for most of his life, more recently he’d cottoned on to the idea that steady relationships were a net positive in his life.

He was ready to try with Steve, too. They’d sort of been dancing around each other. Tony flirted, not sure if Steve even noticed, then Steve haphazardly flirting back, but letting Tony’s return flirting fall flat. But they were past all that confusion, now.

Tony rolled over and reached for his bedmate, but felt only cool sheets. He opened his eyes to confirm that Steve was gone. Well, he shouldn’t be surprised, Tony told himself, trying not to let it get to him. Steve was a ridiculously early riser.

“JARVIS, time?” 

“It is currently ten forty-seven am. Weather is overcast with a light breeze. High of fifty-six degrees.”

Yeah, Steve had probably already gone for a run, stretched, made and eaten breakfast, and picked up a new book. Still, talk needed to happen.

“Thanks, buddy. Where is Steve?”

“Captain Rogers is currently in the communal kitchen, cooking.” Ah, so a little behind schedule, then. 

Tony dressed and strolled down to the kitchen, trying not to wish the love bites he’d collected showed above his collar. He could smell coffee and bacon, and hear Steve’s busy-humming above the sizzle of the frying pan. 

“Hey, Steve,” he called out as he rounded the corner. “Wh—oh, hi Clint,” he corrected, coming face to face with a sleep-deprived looking archer. “When did you get back?”

“Last night,” Clint croaked. “Or, this morning, rather. Three am.” He knocked back his coffee mug, then handed to across the island to Steve for a refill.

Steve, for his part, didn’t even glance up at Tony, he just grabbed the 'Hawkeye' mug and set it on the counter, pushing the right series of commands into the modified Keurig to brew another cup. His other hand was busy stirring eggs, then sprinkling cheese in, then stirring again. Tony supposed he could be forgiven for not greeting him, when he was making enough food to feed a small army. 

“Natasha back too?” Tony asked, slipping into a bar stool next to Clint.

“Not ’till Wednesday at the earliest,” he responded, mumbling into his hand as he started to yawn. 

“Want some coffee, Tony?” Steve offered, still mostly paying attention to the eggs.

“‘Want some coffee?’ he asks me. As if he doesn’t know.” Tony grumbled affectionately, mentally begging Steve to glance over his shoulder and see Tony’s playful look. 

But Steve just queued up Tony’s favorite red and gold mug to be filled after Clint’s, keeping his back firmly to them, humming continuously under his breath. 

It occurred to Tony in that moment that maybe Steve wasn’t ready to be publicly with someone yet. After all, where he came from, if you were gay you went to a lot of trouble to hide that from everyone you knew. Even if Steve was accepting enough of his own sexuality to sleep with a man, that didn’t mean he wanted everyone to know about it. 

Tony could work with that. He’d been with people who didn’t want to be public before—admittedly not for very long—but he could put up with it for Steve. 

Tony relaxed as Clint’s, then his, coffee was surrendered, and his mood brightened once Steve was finished cooking and Bruce and Thor joined them at the bar. Steve stood propped against the sink, this time facing them, jovially laughing and joking along with everyone else. So, it wasn’t quite Tony’s ideal morning-after, but he still caught Steve sending him longing looks over the rim of his plate, so he called it a win. 

.o0o.

Steve was so relieved that breakfast went well that he hadn’t thought to plan ahead for the week. Fortunately, fate intervened on his behalf, and due to their schedules, he and Tony hardly saw each other until Thursday. Thursday night was team bonding night, which usually meant movies. (They had tried board games, but teaching Steve and Thor the rules was time consuming, so if they didn’t want to watch something they stuck to poker.)

This week was Thor’s turn to pick, and he’d been taking recommendations from his girlfriend Jane. Apparently her next suggestion had been 2001: A Space Odyssey. Steve had already seen it, early in his “Intro to the Future” classes (mostly taught by Tony) and so he settled down in the far corner of the couch to give Thor the prime viewing spot. 

He should have offered to make popcorn and delay sitting down, because Tony walked in and his eyes lit up when he saw the space next to Steve was still open. He slipped into it right as Bruce was going for it, sticking his tongue out in the Doctor’s direction and snuggling into the plush cushions. Bruce rolled his eyes and snagged the remaining armchair. 

“Hey, Tony,” Steve greeted, trying not to stare. Tony’s face was smirking, but under that his eyes held a sort of barely restrained joy, like he’d just won a competition. 

“Hey, Cap,” he purred, slinging an arm around the back of the couch. “You know, this is JARVIS’ favorite movie. He quotes it all the time. Right, J?”

“Good afternoon…gentlemen. I am a HAL 9000…computer.” JARVIS intoned.

“Right.” Tony’s arm brushed the back of Steve’s shoulders as he shifted. “Lights at fifteen percent.”

“I’m sorry, Dave, I’m afraid I can’t do that,” JARVIS said, even as the lights dimmed. 

The movie’s plot was entertaining, but Steve just couldn’t focus on anything other than the way Tony touched him. They had exchanged fleeting glances, the occasional stolen kiss, and even a mini-makeout session over the week, but this was the most prolonged contact they had had since The Incident. The soft skin of Tony’s forearm was bare, his sleeves rolled up in the warming room, and Steve himself was in only a workout tank top and shorts. Their skin brushed each time one of them moved, and the innocent touch was bringing Steve undone. 

Tony shifted about halfway through the movie so his thigh pressed against Steve’s, causing him to stiffen. In that dark room, no one could see them, except maybe Thor, and he was so engrossed in the film that he wouldn’t look. But the contact pushed Steve closer to being outrageously hard, and he didn’t want to be caught in a predicament when the lights came back up.

Tony seemed to sense Steve’s hesitance, and backed off a little, but he kept his palm pressed to Steve’s shoulder blade. As the movie drew to a close, Steve felt warm and awake, but no longer painfully aroused. 

The lights did indeed come up, and Tony’s arm left his back to return to his side. Steadily the Avengers trickled out to go to sleep or (more likely) do other things to satisfy their insomnia. 

Finally, it was only them and Bruce left in the room. “But they threatened to turn him off and reprogram him, effectively killing him,” Tony was explaining. “HAL was fighting for his life, against the scientists he had worked with. If the computer has consciousness, regardless of how advanced or rudimentary it is, we have a responsibility to preserve it.”

“Is it your opinion that artificial intelligence should be preserved, then, as if it were the same as a human life?” Bruce asked, not criticizing, but curious.

“Undoubtedly,” Tony responded without missing a beat. “My work with my bots showcases that.”

Bruce nodded thoughtfully. “Before meeting DUM-E, I would have disagreed with you. I’ve seen humans experience things like suffering and joy that I thought no machine was capable of. But, that little bot experiences plenty of joy. It radiates out of him.”

Tony actually blushed, and lost his rhythm for a second. “You—really? Not JARVIS, but DUM-E is what convinced you?”

Bruce waved a hand. “JARVIS is amazing, Tony, and I’m sure he experiences those things, too. But DUM-E is…not as…discrete? not as hidden as J is. JARVIS, like any adult, hides his feelings better than a child.” Bruce shrugged. 

“I agree with Bruce,” Steve broke in. “I mean, the whole artificial life thing is way outside my understanding, most of the time. DUM-E was what really brought it home for me, that alive and machine weren’t separate concepts.”

If he didn’t know better, Steve would think Tony was choking up. “Thanks. For, for saying that. Both of you,” Tony managed. “I mean, DUM-E was my first—my first kid, really. So it’s great to hear—that he’s still doing what he was meant to do.” He gave a watery smile. 

Bruce smiled back, then got up and stretched. “Well, I’ve got an early morning tomorrow. You kids have fun.” He made an odd face at Tony, grinning at whatever look Tony shot back out of Steve’s sight, then padded softly away. 

.o0o.

There was silence for a moment. “JARVIS is great, too,” Steve finally mentioned awkwardly, hoping Jarvis would cut in. Tony was hanging closer to him again, and Steve was going to have to voice that decision he’d made, wasn’t he. 

“I don’t want to talk about JARVIS right now,” Tony murmured in his ear, lips brushing the lobe. “Unless…” he drew back to meet Steve’s gaze. “You aren’t…you don’t…”

“I do!” Steve rushed to say, placing a hand on Tony’s thigh, tilting into his space. “I do. But…”

“It’s okay,” Tony hushed him, bringing his hands up again to run through Steve’s hair. “I understand. Just…like this,” he moaned, crushing their mouths together.

As they kissed, the tiny part of Steve’s brain that wasn’t just screaming Tony’s name on repeat complained that that hadn’t really solved anything, but the tongue in his mouth made it pretty clear that Tony was wanting their tryst to have a second act. Hands delved under his tank top, smoothing up his chest and plucking at his nipples experimentally. Tony’s erection pressed against his leg through their shorts, and playful teeth nipped at his lower lip. 

Steve tried to get his hands on as much of Tony as possible, sliding up his thighs to his back and pulling him close. His other hand caught Tony’s shoulder, then pet his neck, his jaw, sliding up to correct the angle of their kiss to something a little more languorous and heated, instead of fast and crushing. 

Tony pushed at Steve’s chest, trying to communicate something but not wanting to break the kiss. Eventually, Steve understood that Tony wanted them horizontal, but instead of doing it the way Tony implied, he pressed Tony down into the couch and hovered over him, breath coming heavy. 

“God, you are so—” Tony cut off as he pulled Steve’s shirt over his head, then grabbed Steve by the hair to bring him down into a kiss. Tony tasted like butter and salt from the popcorn, and his hands stayed anchored in Steve’s hair, pulling just the right amount. 

“Got any slick?” Steve mumbled against his lips. 

“Mmnh, not here,” Tony muttered and swore. “Upstairs.”

“Can’t wait,” Steve replied, then went back to kissing Tony senseless. One arm slid down to his elbow to hold his weight, the other working at the waistband of Tony’s pants. Thankfully, they were both wearing bottoms without clasps or buttons, and within thirty seconds their cocks were out in the air, red and hard. Steve looped his hand around them both and thrust against Tony, his slick precome cutting the friction only a little. 

Tony groaned like he’d been set afire. “Steve, baby, ooh,” he whined. “Take it easy, hmm?” Steve slowed his jerking to a rocking, building rhythm, and Tony melted into the couch. “Mmnh, yes, just like that, Steve.”

Steve licked a strip up Tony’s neck as it arched in front of him, nudging the collar of his shirt aside to refresh one of the marks he’d left last week. It was all but gone, faded and unnoticeable, but when Steve was done with it it was red and quickly purpling. Tony didn’t seem to mind, and moaned through the whole thing. 

“Steve, ah, St—” Tony gasped. “Steve.”

“Yeah,” he panted into Tony’s ear, crouched low over him. He increased his rhythm again as Tony’s cock started weeping in tandem with his. 

“So good, so—oh fuck—Steve, look at me?”

Steve didn’t want to, he saw Tony’s face last time, and he could fall in love with that face, it was so much safer here in the crook of Tony’s neck, just pleasure and heat and—

Against his logical brain’s will, he lifted his head, meeting Tony’s eyes. His pupils were blown, eyes black, and Steve felt himself speed up once again.

“Gonna come, Tony?” he asked, holding eye contact. Tony nodded and whined again. 

Steve realized suddenly that he was close, too. The orgasm started at the base of his spine, curling through him fast and ruthless, making him cry out. All the while he kept Tony’s gaze, returned it, more vulnerable than he had ever been before. 

Tony followed immediately after him, Coming with a soft “Steve,” and holding tight to Steve’s shoulders. He collapsed after, and Steve had to struggle not to do the same and crush Tony with his weight. 

“Tappin’ out, big guy,” Tony slurred. “That w’s amazing.”

Their chests were streaked with come, Tony’s on his shirt, and though most of their mess had missed the couch, Steve was starting to feel a little guilty about having sex on a public piece of furniture. Natasha had sat there only an hour ago…

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it,” Tony said. “I caught Clint and Coulson doing it on the kitchen table last month. As long as we clean up, no one in this tower can throw stones.” He thought for a moment. “Except maybe Bruce.”

Steve groaned as he got up and returned with baby wipes. Tony helped him clean up, paying special attention to Steve’s chest and not paying much attention to the couch at all. Tony’s shirt, unfortunately, was a lost cause. 

“We should talk,” Tony said, and oh no, here it comes. 

“I know you’re…well. You don’t want to tell the others. And that’s fine!” Tony said, hand up placatingly. “It’s fine, I don’t mind at all.”

Steve wondered if Tony’s partners usually wanted to be loud about their casual sex arrangements, if that was normal nowadays. He found he didn’t care. Some things should be private.

“Yes, I mean, if we could…keep it between us.”

“And the rest? I know I haven’t been around much this week, and I’m afraid that will sort of be the norm for the next month or two. We’ve got three major events coming up, with SI, and I—”

“Tony, I know you’re busy,” Steve said kindly. “I don’t need sex all the time.”

This seemed to throw Tony a little, so Steve corrected. “I mean, it will stink not having you around, I lo-like hanging out with you.”

“I want to be around more, too,” Tony agreed, “But it really can’t be helped. So, let’s plan on after every movie night? They won’t all be like this, I promise.” Quick and without slick, Steve filled in.

Had he really gotten to the point that he was scheduling booty calls? Steve forced a smile and hoped Tony couldn’t see through it.  “Sure.”

Tony smiled back, softly, like he was looking at something precious. He kissed the tip of Steve’s nose, then his chin, then chastely on the lips. 

“But for tonight, I am beat. That movie is always longer than the last time I watched it.”

Steve gave a shaky laugh and stood to grab his shirt from where Tony had tossed it on the floor. He shrugged it on and stood awkwardly, unsure how to end their interaction. Not wanting to leave.

“Come to bed tonight?” Tony asked, in that way that meant he was trying to be casual but cared a great deal about the response. 

“Of course,” Steve said, before he could think it through. All night in Tony’s bed, smelling Tony, sleeping next to him…

“Come on, then,” Tony called, already heading for the elevator.

Steve would find a way to not fall in love with Tony Stark. 

.o0o.

The conversation with Steve left Tony feeling a little unbalanced. Maybe, he reasoned, Steve was just…still in post-orgasm land, and he’d popped out and said that the sex was what he associated Tony most with, because that’s what they’ just been doing. He knew Steve liked him, and liked spending time with him. He knew Steve wasn’t just with him for the sex. His feelings were in every kiss, every glance and touch. 

Still, maybe Steve really did believe all those things the media said about Tony, that he was a slut and good in bed but not for much else. It didn’t seem like that, most of the time, but then…why would Steve say such a thing?

Tony decided to let it go. Thor knows he had said some pretty stupid stuff right after an orgasm before. He should take it as a compliment that he’d scrambled Steve’s brain so well. 

The following week continued to be insanely busy at SI, and the post-movie-night date came up faster than Tony could prep for. He forgot to make reservations, so instead he ordered take-out from Steve’s favorite curry place and they went up to the roof to eat it. They traded jokes, and take-out cartons, until the city lit up in the night. Steve seemed to enjoy it, so Tony didn’t beat himself up about forgetting. 

That night Steve rode him, thighs straining to lift himself up until just the head of Tony’s cock hooked on his rim, then slamming down so he was engulfed in Steve’s hot, wet heat. Steve was more vocal when he was being fucked like this, whining and moaning and pleading for Tony to thrust up into him, faster. Tony’s hands bracketed his hips, an imitation of helping, but Steve was doing all the work. 

“So hot, so pretty for me, babe,” Tony growled at him, and Steve gasped and moved impossibly faster, his sweet spot being knocked with every thrust. 

After, Steve flopped onto Tony’s chest, half off of him so he could still breathe. “Tony,” he murmured. “Gonna feel you still tomorrow.”

“Good,” Tony chuckled into his hair.

They fell asleep wrapped in each other, and Tony believed that he just might not screw this up. 

.o0o.

Steve was failing at not falling in love with Tony Stark. 

Tony still spent time with him when he could, but he seemed to take special interest in doing so right before their agreed-upon sex time. They hung out on the tower’s roof, they went to a baseball game, they took a walk through the park when the weather was good. Then, home for movie night, then into Tony’s bed. The next morning, he was almost always up before the sun, desperately wishing he could justify staying in bed, but knowing it would only make his predicament worse.

Steve was so confused, because Tony kept doing things that Steve thought were dating things, things like sneaking chaste kisses when they were alone, or holding hands, or getting lunch together. Steve didn’t want to pull away, because when he did Tony sometimes got this hurt look. But his heart kept getting on the wrong track—he kept having to remind himself that, as much as it felt like a relationship, it wasn’t. It was just sex. It was just, friends with benefits. 

Tony invited him down to the workshop at least once a week on a day that wasn’t Thursday. Steve couldn’t always make it—his own schedule was crazy, too—but he went down and sketched or watched Tony more often than not. He filled pages and pages with renderings of Tony’s face, his hands, his work, his…assets.

After a month of Steve and Tony being together, Natasha cornered Steve one afternoon in the gym. “Spar?” she asked.

Steve taped his hands and sparred with her, testing his speed against hers. She was better and hand-to-hand than he, but he was stronger, and they were fairly evenly matched. 

“You need to take Tony seriously,” Natasha told him between hits. “He doesn’t attach himself lightly.”

“He’s my friend,” Steve responded, though it was no use denying what Natasha thought she knew. “We’re not together. Like that.”

She scoffed, and kept fighting. The next time she threw him down, she stood over him and pressed a heel to his abdomen. 

“Talk to him,” she implored. “You might realize it’s something different than you think.”

Steve didn’t meet her eyes. “Just because I want it to be doesn’t mean it is.”

She tried to stare him down, but he resolutely kept his gaze on the mat. Finally she kicked him in the side painfully, and stalked off. 

.o0o.

Of course, Tony’s workload slowed down the following week. By the time they had been doing the friends-with-benefits thing six weeks, Steve saw Tony more days than he didn’t. 

Finally, one Thursday evening, Tony asked, “Do you have anything planned this weekend?”

“Not that I know of,” Steve said warily. 

“Great,” Tony enthused. “You’re coming with me to Malibu.”

“Tony, what? I can’t just—”

“You can,” Tony cut him off. “I don’t have any work, you just said you have nothing, and Fury approved our time off. I told him I was teaching you about the intricacies of the American housing market and he begged me to shut up and take you.”

Steve couldn’t find a reason not to go, so twelve hours later, his bag was packed and he was on Tony’s private jet flying cross country. 

The beach was pristine, the white sands cushioning the waves as they rolled out to low tide. Tony dropped his bag in the master, encouraged Steve to do the same, then changed quickly and jumped into the pool first thing. 

“Come in! The water’s fine!” he crowed. Steve grabbed his trunks. 

They traded off swimming and laying in the sun until it set, then the got seafood for dinner. In the meantime they talked about everything and nothing. 

“But Pollock!” Tony was bemoaning. “How can you respect Pollock? He just made a mess with paint everywhere!”

“Pollock had a unique style and form. He was good at getting paint everywhere,” Steve pointed out.

“Pollock was good at getting paint everywhere. That’s your argument.”

“His art makes you wonder what may be underneath. There are patterns there that you can find, in the chaos. The overwhelmingness of it acts as a way of conveying emotion, or blankness, or action.”

Tony scratched his chin. “I may own one, but I don’t understand them.”

Steve nearly spit out his wine. “You own a Pollock?”

“I did,” He shrugged like it was nothing. “I’m not sure I still do. Pepper handles my art collection. Or, her art collection, I should say.”

They continued like this, chatting and enjoying each other’s company, and for the first time, Steve wasn’t conflicted about spending time with Tony. Here, outside the tower, it felt okay to focus on him and them being together. He didn’t feel the need to pull away, when Tony touched him casually. 

As the evening grew to a close, they went up to the master bedroom. Steve found himself leaning into Tony’s space, sending him quiet smiles, enjoying his response. 

But before they could make it to the bed, Tony stopped Steve with a soft hand to his chest. “I’m not really in the mood for sex tonight, babe. Can we just…cuddle?”

Steve looked at Tony to make sure he was serious. “I…Tony—” _I don’t know what’s going on_ , he wanted to say. _I keep trying not to love you, and you’re making it unbearably hard. I don’t know how to do this without offending you or hurting me_. 

“Yes,” he said, instead. 

But Tony noticed his delay. He cupped Steve’s face, concerned. “Is everything okay? I thought—you were so relaxed all day, I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

“I have,” Steve confirmed. 

“Then what—”

“It’s fine, Tony, we can, whatever you want.”

“No,” Tony responded, wrapping his arms comfortingly around his waist. “That’s not how this relationship works.” Relationship? “I know we don’t talk too much, but if you need to talk, I’ll listen.”

“I don’t understand. I want—just, tell me, what does it mean when we hold hands?”

Tony stopped. “Well,” he said carefully, “It’s a way for me to show you I care about you through touch. It means we’re together, that you’re with me and I’m with you. It’s—affectionate.”

Steve nodded. “And what about—when we went to that baseball game?”

“To be honest, I was bored with the game, but your reactions kept it interesting. It was a good date, I thought. Steve, where is this going?”

Date. It was a date. Holding hands was…affection. Was he dating Tony?

“Okay.” Steve breathed. His breath shook, and Tony moved a worried hand to his pulse, making sure he was alright. “I’m okay.” Steve said again. “Let’s cuddle.”

Tony’s eyes stayed sharp, but they moved to lay down on the bed. Before they got fully situated, Tony shot up and shouted “Oh! I was doing the not-communicating thing. Steve. I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I haven’t been fair to you. Here I am, thinking all these romantic ridiculous things about you and never saying them.”

Steve was blown away. 

“I think you’re amazing,” Tony continued. “I am so crazy about you. Pepper hounded me for months to ask you out, because I was mooning over you during the work day. I was sure you weren’t…comfortable with your interest in guys, being from the past and all, but after we—got together—I jumped at the chance to keep dating you. It wasn’t a convenience thing, or whatever you’re thinking. I crushed on you for forever.”

Tony. Tony thought. They were. He was. Dating. Tony. 

All this time, Steve had been trying desperately not to care, not to let himself be romantically involved, and here Tony was telling him he felt the same way. 

“I must be dreaming,” Steve muttered to himself. He pinched his arm, but he was still there, in the giant bed, Tony kneeling between his legs.

“Whoa, Steve? You okay? I get that was a lot, but—mmph!”

Steve cut him off with a kiss, pulling Tony close and sweeping his tongue into his mouth. They kissed and kissed, and then Steve pulled away to let Tony breathe, his lips siding down Tony’s jaw and throat. 

“I know you said no sex,” Steve murmured. “But I really want to blow you right now.”

Tony laughed, still catching his breath. “Save it for the morning? And please, still be here when I wake up. I feel like I always miss you.”

“Yes.” Steve’s determination shone through in his tone. 

They lay next to each other, noses and foreheads touching, trading sweet, soft kisses until they slept. This time, Steve’s sleep was peaceful.

.o0o.

Tony woke the next morning to an orgasm blasting its way through his body. He arched off the bed, whiting out even as he opened his eyes for the first time that day. Steve swallowed the ropes of come, lapping softly at the cockhead until Tony whined in overstimulation. “Good morning,” he purred, throat growly.

“G’mornin’,” Tony attempted to respond. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait for you to wake up.” Steve slid his hands up Tony’s bare sides, moving to hang over him and drop a kiss onto each shoulder. “I got started without you.”

“S’okay,” Tony said, reveling in the fact that this wasn’t a dream. “Get started whenever you like.”

Steve laid back down to cuddle with Tony through his post-orgasm haze. Then he let Tony jerk him off in slow, steady movements , shivering apart like Tony had never seen. 

“Beautiful,” he gasped, looking down at his lover. “So beautiful, Steve.”

They cleaned up. Tony’s mysteriously ghostlike staff had left breakfast in the fridge for them when they went down, and Tony held his hand over the breakfast nook table. Steve was thrilled.

They spent all day hunting for shells at the beach. It was a little chilly to swim in the ocean, but the tide left pools of little crabs and starfish when it went out, and they took quite a chunk of time to explore those, too. In the evening, curled up in a hammock, Steve told Tony the whole sad saga.

“I was sure you were like all the other fellas I’ve met. Happy to get me in bed, but not looking for anything further. I told myself, so many times, I couldn’t—couldn’t care about you. But I did anyway.”

Tony looked pinched. “Steve. If I had known that was what you were thinking, I would have corrected you in a heartbeat.”

“I know,” Steve pressed a soft kiss to his hair. “It’s okay now. I—I know now.”

Even with Steve’s reassurance, Tony wouldn’t let them sleep without a long, slow fuck first. They moved in to the bed, and Tony laid Steve down on his back, and slicked his own fingers. He pressed inside Steve smoother and slower than he would have liked, but the burn was less and the pressure felt so good that he couldn’t find it in himself to complain. 

While he was prepping him, Tony murmured wild, filthy things to Steve. “You look so sweet on my cock,” he told him. “When I’m fucking you, the look on your face makes me think I’m fucking you broken and whole at the same time. You take me so nicely.

“I want to finger you for hours. One of these days, I will. I’ll have to tie you up, first, so you can’t take control. Oh, I know, you love to be in control, but this isn’t for you. I’d just finger you like this until you’re sloppy with it, until your prostate is bruised. You’ll be so open and loose for me, I could just slide right in. Take what I wanted.”

Steve moaned and angled his hips, begging Tony with his body. “Mmph, or you could just fuck me now,” he suggested as calmly as possible. 

Tony chuckled. “I’ll have to gag you, too, so you don’t talk me out of it.” And that thought, of being tied and gagged and used by Tony, was enough to have Steve arching and moaning. “Ah! mph, Tony!”

Finally, Tony’s fingers slipped out. The blunt head of his cock replaced them at his entrance, not pushing in, just teasing. 

“Please!” Steve cried. “Fuck me!’

Tony leaned over him, pushing his thighs so he was nearly folded in two. He got close so he filled all of Steve’s vision. Then, as they locked eyes, he pushed slowly into Steve.

The pressure was intense. It had been like that the first time, but there had been a leftover burn from not stretching enough, and that had changed the pleasure. Steve enjoyed that, too, but this was just slide and pressure and Tony, no pain, no burn. It was too much; It overcame Steve and he came without a hand on his cock. 

Tony stopped to let him recover, then bottomed out a minute later. “God, that’s so hot, that you came on my cock,” Tony said. He was still right above Steve, his whole world narrowed to Tony, Tony, Tony. 

Steadily as Steve recovered, Tony began rocking softly into him, trying to avoid his prostate while Steve was still sensitive from coming. “Good, Steve,” he breathed. “Mm, so warm for me. That’s it.”

They fell into a rhythm. It could have been hours for all Steve knew, but eventually he was hard and leaking again, his insistent cock trapped between their bellies as Tony drove into him. 

“Steve, Steve, you close?” Tony asked, winding a hand down from holding Steve’s legs to wrap around his cock, pumping it in time with his thrusts. Steve all but screamed and nodded, scrabbling at Tony’s shoulders. It had never, never been like this before. 

“Me, me too, baby,” Tony panted. “Gonna make you come.” And then, They were both coming, Steve’s hole clenching setting off Tony, or Tony’s hips snapping for the last time into his spot setting off Steve, he wasn’t sure which. They muffled their cries with a kiss. 

Tony pulled out of Steve, bringing the mess with him in a rush. Steve could feel come and lube dripping out of his sensitive hole, onto the sheets below him. 

“Tony,” he tried to say more, but the words didn’t get in the right order in his head, so he fell silent. 

“Me too,” Tony said anyway. “God, I fucked your brains out, didn’t I?”

Steve gurgled and flapped his arm to pet-slap Tony in the thigh. 

“I totally did,” Tony said smugly. 

He disappeared for a moment, then returned with a soft cool cloth to wipe up Steve’s spunk from his abdomen. His touch was soft, affectionate, almost sweet. Finally satisfied, Tony settled down next to him and cuddled in. Tony was definitely a cuddle bunny.

“So, does that mean we can tell the others, now?” Tony asked. “Because I want to be able to slap your ass in the kitchen. And the hallway. And everywhere I see your ass.”

Steve laughed out loud. “We can tell the others.”

Tony breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, because I’m pretty sure everyone has just been pretending not to know.”

“Tony,” Steve said.

“Steve,” Tony said.

They fell asleep together, and they made a point to wake up together, too. 

fin

**Author's Note:**

> Be sure to check out the [art by latelierderiot!](https://neverthelessthesun.tumblr.com/post/177215714168/latelierderiot-fanfic-writers-appreciation)
> 
> Find me on dreamwidth [here](https://neverthelessthesun.dreamwidth.org/)!


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